While Foster's goes to Europe, for real this time
by Tall T
Summary: Eight years after Foster's European fiasco, Madame Foster suddenly has a confession to make. But what brought this on?
1. Old Debt

**While Foster's went to Europe, for real this time**

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_Please note: This story is a prequel to my fanfic "Frankie Rules". Roughly, it takes place between the flashback sequences and the "current" sequences of that story. Strictly speaking, you don't need to have read that story in order to understand this (although I'd appreciate it if you read it anyway, of course). All you need to know is that this story takes place roughly eight years after the events in the tv series._

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**Chapter one: ****Old debt**

Frankie had spent the better part of the afternoon studying The Book. Mr. Herriman had kept The Book to himself for years, but on this morning he had, for some reason, suddenly decided to give in and let her study the book alone. His only condition was that Frankie didn't add anything thing to it, which of course she promised not to.

It was the Book of Friends. Mr. Herriman had been keeping it for years, making additions to it almost every day. It was the book where he listed every single Imaginary Friend that had ever come and gone in and out of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. For each Friend there was an entry on its background, its personality, how long it had been there and how many times it had been adopted.

At the moment, Frankie was working her way through the letter "E". Edurado…well, she knew pretty much everything about him. Eurotrish…now _she_ Frankie didn't know too much about, even though she had only been adopted and out of Foster's for four years altogether since she came here roughly fifteen years ago. Eurotrish, it turned out, was created by Paola Ginelli, the daughter of an Italian diplomat working at the European Union headquarters in Brussels, Belgium. Well, that explained her Italian accent and her pan-European clothing. Her given name was Patricia, but when she came to Foster's there was already a Friend from Texas there by the name Patricia. "Textrish" was adopted a few months later, but by that time, the nickname "Eurotrish" had stuck.

Frankie kept reading. For every entry there was a column where Mr. Herriman had written down the reason why every Friend was sent to Foster's in the first place. Of course, in most case, the reason given was simply that the creator or adaptor had outgrown the Friend. In Eurotrish' case, however, the explanation was: "She sings too much." And Mr. Herriman had even quoted Trish' creator on saying just that. It was true that Eurotrish used to sing a lot, and she had an awful singing voice. But eight years ago, she suddenly just disappeared for two weeks. When she returned, she didn't want to talk to anyone, and she never sang again. In the long run, however, this was for the best. Gradually she lightened up, and got along well with the other residents of Foster's. Everyone agreed that she was a nice gal as long as she didn't sing. She was currently sharing a room with Coco.

"Attention!" came Mr. Herriman's voice suddenly from the calling system. "Miss Frances, Master Wilt, Master Eduardo, Miss Coco and Master Blooregard! Madame Foster wishes to see you all in the hall as soon as possible." Curious, Frankie put down The Book. Her grandmother hardly ever made Mr. Herriman deliver her messages through the calling system. And a couple of hours ago, she had driven into town alone for reasons she didn't want to let her in on. This had to be important. However, when Frankie met her in the hallway, she looked as casual as ever. Her walk had gotten slightly more uncertain, but that wasn't an unusual sight nowadays. She was getting very old, and as much as she wanted to remain a "funky grandma", it was getting increasingly obvious that she no longer had the physique for it.

"All right grandma, what's this all about?" Frankie asked while she noticed Eduardo and Coco coming down the stairs

Madame Foster waved her purse nonchalantly. "I'll be getting to that when we're all here. Oh, I almost forgot…is Maxwell and Gunilla here? That's actually quite important. Especially Max.."

"_Oh EWW! Get a ROOM, people!"_That was Bloo's voice, coming from upstairs.

"_Technically, the _did_ get a room, Bloo."_, the voice of Wilt objected weakly.

"_Well, get a room and LOCK it, then." _Bloo corrected himself, and added _"People!"_

Frankie smiled "Yes, in fact, it just so happens that Mac and Goo are in the house."

"The ol' Foster love magic is still working, I take it!" Madame Foster giggled. For quite some time, Madame Foster had been working hard to pair up Foster's two regular human visitors. Two months ago, her efforts were finally crowned with success, thanks to an elaborate scheme which involved getting Mac and Goo together alone in a broken-down car on a very rainy valentine's day evening so they could talk things out.

Finally having gathered her audience of eight - her granddaughter, her Imaginary Friend for more than eighty years, her favourite couple and Foster's Fab Four (as they were often called) - at the staircase, Madame Foster sat down in a nearby chair and folded her hands.

"I suppose you're all wondering why I told you to come here today - "

"I'm not" Bloo interrupted

"Do you know?" Frankie asked

"No, I'm just not wondering."

Seven pairs of eyes rolled more or less simultaneously.

"I'm sorry about that, Madame Foster", Mac volunteered. "Go on."

"Thank you, Maxwell, but actually, I'm the one who owe _you_ an apology."

"What do you mean?"

Madame Foster cleared her throat. "I've done plenty of crazy things in my life, and I rarely regret any of them, because regrets are a waste of time. Life is short enough as it is. However, with age comes reflection, and I've come to realize that some things must be made amends for…" She began digging in her pocket, and eventually found a bunch of small papers that she handed to Mac.

"I believe I… ahem, borrowed these from you eight years ago. Without asking for permission, I'll admit. I'm sorry it took so long to replace them…"

Still somewhat confused, Mac took the papers, and studied them. Then he stared at Madame Foster, gaping.

"A two weeks all-expenses-paid roundtrip to Europe! You mean it was you who…?"

Madame Foster nodded.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Everyone was looking at the tickets, of which there were seven. Then the hallway burst into a happy chaos of cheers, apologies to Mac and a confused Goo asking everyone for an explanation.

Frankie noticed that Madame Foster wiped her forehead. She was probably happy that for the moment, everyone seemed to have forgotten about her. However, she couldn't help but feeling that her grandmother seemed to be getting away with this more easily than she deserved to. She had stolen a valuable price from a child, for crying out loud! And now, eight years later she had suddenly decided to ease her conscience by buying Mac new tickets, giving him a feeble, almost conditional apology and even retroactively trying to make her theft sound like a loan!

But Mac seemed to be happy, and strictly speaking, that was all that mattered right now. It had been his tickets, after all. In fact, everyone seemed very happy for the moment. Frankie didn't have the heart to spoil everyone's good mood by pointing out that her grandmother had, in fact, just admitted to being guilty of a pretty big crime. So she decided to do like everyone else and ignore this detail, at least for the moment. Picking up the tickets, she noticed that they had already been made out to specific people. There was one for her, one for Mac, and one for each of the four Friends that were supposed to come with them on the trip eight years ago. Oh, and there was one for Goo. Of course, after having spent so much time and energy on pairing her with Mac, she wasn't going to throw away the perfectly good opportunity to send them off on a semi-romantic holiday together. It Looked like Frankie was going to play the part of the chaperone…

But there was one name that was missing, one who was also supposed to have gone to Europe with them the last time…

"Where is Mr. Herriman's ticket?"

"I'm perfectly happy to settle for Madame Foster's apology, Miss Frances. Besides, someone has to keep the house in order while you are vacationing across the Atlantic."

"So you don't think grandma will be able to handle it alone?", Frankie responded with a nonchalant smile.

_If this is about what I think it is, Madame Foster won't be able to do _anything_ soon_, Mr. Herriman thought darkly. But he merely said: "I'm sure she is going to need us some assistance."

"Oh, I'm can help them out some extra, Frankie. I owe you people that much.", said a shrieking girl's voice with an Italian accent. An oversized cap with stick-figured cartoon rodent Friend underneath it came walking down the stairs. Eurotrish.

"After all", she continued, "I was sorta an ah-comp-lees."

Frankie turned around and looked up at her "An accomplice, Patricia? You mean you…?"

"Si, I accepted one of Signora Foster's tickets because I really wanted to go to Europa and see my creator and her familia again", Eurotish explained with a glum facial expression that suggested she didn't want any questions about how that visit went. "I took it in good faith, but I really shoulda been more susp-ee-shush."

"I don't think anyone blames you, Patricia", Frankie assured her. _After all, they're not even blaming grandma, really_, she added in her mind. "But if you want to help out in the house, you're welcome to it."

"Well, I know how much you work to…" Eurotrish stopped mid-sentence. Something had suddenly occurred to her: "Why, Frankie, you called me by my real name! Twice! Nobody's done that for _years_!" Beaming with joy, she hugged the flabbergasted caretaker tightly "Oh thank you, thank you!"

Bloo, who had long since grown bored with the current topic of the conversation, turned his attention to the tickets themselves. Like Frankie, he couldn't help but notice something about the specifications:

"Why have Mac and Goo gotten two seats much further in the plane than the rest of us?", he asked to anyone who was interested in hearing (which, for the moment, were none). "Hey Goo, will ya trade…oh EWW, not AGAIN already! Just for the record, this time you _did not _get a room!"

As the buzz went on, and preparations were being made, Mr. Herriman took his creator aside. "Madame, could we please have a chat? In privacy?"

Madame Foster looked at the giant rabbit for a moment. "Why, certainly." she said, before she turned her back on him and began walking slowly up the stairs. "But not until later."

_Continued…_

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_Comment:_I wrote this story partly to create a bridge between the two timelines in "Frankie Rules", and partly for two other reasons. One, I wanted to give Eurotrish a proper origin story and two, I wanted a better resolution for _Foster's Goes To Europe_. I've always hated that episode because it has the show's most WTF? ending ever. So I wanted to see Madame Foster finally make amends, while at the same time allowing her to stay in character. I hope you think I succeeded at that.


	2. Legacy

**Chapter**** two: Legacy**

Once again, preparing for the trip to Europe was a mess, but not anywhere as bad as the last time. Goo kept Bloo, Wilt, Eduardo and Coco on their toes by running around and telling them, repeatedly and rather firmly, them to finish packing already. Mr. Herriman wasn't coming along, so he didn't waste time making and imposing schedules on everyone else. Eurotrish, who was one of the few Imaginary Friends currently in the house with a physique that allowed her to even have a driver's license, drove them to the airport in Foster's Bus. Coco was still afraid of flying, but on the way Trish and Goo somehow managed to calm down the bird-plane-plant Friend sufficiently.

Ten minutes later, Eurotrish returned with an empty bus. After having assured Madame Foster and Mr. Herriman that the whole gang got safely on a plane to Brussels, the two old people - The Imaginary Friend and his creator - were left alone in the great hallway of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends.

Mr. Herriman couldn't help but noticing how delightfully quiet the Home suddenly was without Coco, Eduardo, and particularly Bloo, there. But he didn't have the time to enjoy the silence now.

"Ahem, Madame?", he addressed his creator "Do you remember ten days ago, when I asked you if we could have a chat in privacy?"

"Why, yes."

"Could we please have that chat now?"

"Of course." She said, and began walking up the stairs. _"I guess I can't postpone it much longer_", she muttered to herself, in a voice so low that she probably thought she was the only one who could hear what she said. But Mr. Herriman heard.

It took Madame Foster a long time to walk up the stairs to Mr. Herriman's office, even longer than usual. Everyone had noticed that she was getting weaker, but Mr. Herriman vaguely suspected that she was deliberately taking her time today because she wanted to put this off as long as humanly possible.

"Are you comfortable, Madame?" he asked her when the both of them were finally seated in his office.

"Under the circumstances, yes.", the lady replied a little nervously, probably because she knew what was coming.

"Good…"

Mr. Herriman coughed.

"Now let's get down to business."

"What business?"

"Madame, please stop playing innocent. I know that the day you suddenly decided to replace the old tickets was the same day you had an appointment with your doctor. He called me that same morning and asked me to remind you about it. I didn't. But that wasn't necessary, was it?"

"Yes, I went to see him."

Mr. Herriman hesitated. He was beginning to sweat. Eventually, he said:

"And…?"

Madame Foster was silent. She sat back in her chair and looked knowingly at him.

He took his hat off. "I understand. How much longer?"

"Three months. Four, at best."

The rabbit looked down. For a minute or so, not a sound was heard in the room. Then he began sobbing lowly.

"I've had a good run, Mr. Herriman. We both knew this day would have to come."

She got off her chair and began walking around as if she wanted to point out the fact that she was still alive. "Please don't tell the others." She said. "I'll do it myself, when I think the time is right. If I tell them as soon as they get home, they'll spend the next few months pitying me, and that would just kill me…sorry, bad choice of words. Anyway, I've always seized the day, and now is definitely not the right time to stop doing so. I want to enjoy every moment I have left. However - " she handed Mr. Herriman a handkerchief and he blew into it a couple of times before she continued "- there's some serious business to take care of too, and I'm starting with the most important one…"

Mr. Herriman and Madame Foster exchanged glances.

"The Home?" he asked

"The Home" she confirmed, and returned to her seat. "Mr. Herriman, can I be completely honest with you?"

"Always, Madame."

"All these years, I've enjoyed the friction between you and my granddaughter. I think it's been good for the both of you, having to face so much resistance from each other. It's helped keeping you on your toes. However, I dread to think what it might develop into when I'm no longer here to supervise and go between you. So I've decided" - she took a pause for effect - "that it's better if one of you step down. Now, to make that process easier, I'm going to make sure that neither you nor Frankie is left with nothing. So I'm keeping it simple: one of you gets the house, and the other gets my savings."

Mr. Herriman looked at his creator curiosuly.

"Uh, pardon me the phrasing of my question Madame, but… what savings?"

Madame Foster smiled. "I suppose what you mean to ask me about is, when did I ever save any money? Well, I may be impulsive, sometimes even crazy, but I'm not stupid. I do have a savings fund."

"I never heard of that."

"I never told anyone. If you or Frankie knew about it, you might try and talk me into using some of it. I couldn't take that chance. It was difficult enough not to talk myself into using some of it. Not only did I have to avoid spending any of it on impulse purchases - I also had to avoid using any of it on the house, even during emergencies. Emergencies come and go, and we find solutions. But only I could prepare for this. And I had to. I had to make sure I could leave something for the both of you. So this is my legacy, Mr. Herriman: The house. And the fund, which amounts to roughly one hundred grand by now."

The rabbit's eyes widened.

"Now then," she continued "the big question is of course, who gets the house? I've had plenty of opportunity to think this over. Now, you're doing a fine job keeping the Home in order, there's no denying that. But thanks to the house president election eight years ago, I had the opportunity to see how Frankie would handle the same task. It was, shall we say, illuminating. She was determined and effective. She was being considerate to special needs, of which there will always be plenty in a house full of Imaginary Friends. She made workable chore list system. She maintained discipline, yet at the same time she treated the Friends with respect, and was well liked. In fact, she might still have been president if it wasn't for the fact that I paid her the same nearly symbolic salary that you've always been paid as president. She couldn't live on that."

"So it was only because of the salary. I knew it…!"

"Now, now, don't get all cocky, Mr. Herriman. My point is still as valid. And the point is, Frankie did an excellent job, and she was - and still is - on better terms with the tenants than you. Did you see the response she got from Eurotrish that day, just for using her real name?"

She got out of her chair again, and began walking in circles around Mr. Herriman's desk.

"So to summarize, I'm left with two options: Either I leave the house to you, letting you run things like you always have, and leave the money to Frankie, giving her the freedom to choose if she wants to stay as a caretaker, or move out and make a life for herself elsewhere. OR…I leave the money to you and the house to Frankie, thus putting her in charge of Foster's."

Once again, Madame Foster took a pause for effect. It was a long one this time, but eventually she said:

"Well, guess what I chose…?"

The Imaginary Friend's head sank.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Herriman, but blood is thicker than imagination. I'm leaving the house to Frankie. I think she's ready for that responsibility."

"I… I… accept your decision, Madame."

"It won't be so bad, Mr. Herriman. Tell you what, I can make it a condition that in order to get the house Frankie must keep you around as President."

Mr. Herriman didn't look very consoled.

"Of course, that still puts her in your position, Madame. As the master of the house, she'll be able to overrun any decision I make. And we both know she's going to do that a lot more often than you used to. Miss Frances and I have very different opinions on how to run The Home."

Madame Foster nodded. "Still, isn't illusory power better than no power at all?", she argued.

"The answer to that question might surprise you, Madame." Mr. Herriman replied. "I don't want to remain in my current position if I'm only allowed to do so out of pity..."

He got up.

"No, you were right the first time, Madame - It is better if one of us steps down."

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THE END

... But continued in the first chapter of "Frankie Rules"


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